The Turning
by Raekal
Summary: Young Dakota Prince, a new transfer student from America, finds himself thrust into the most threatening situation Hogwarts has ever faced, and he is the key. (rated for future violence)
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Turning  
  
Disclaimer: MOST of the characters belong to J.K. Rowling and are only being borrowed to be returned in basically the same shape they were lent to me in.  
  
Chapter 1  
  
As Hogwart's Magic School of Witchcraft and Wizardy came into view, a few students cheered. Another year, some more fun. Dakota stared in awe at the massive castle. A new transfer student from America, he had heard tales and wild storied about this very school.  
  
Dakota was a quiet, efficient student who was now in his third year. He had been through his first two in the Salem Institute in New England, America, but he had hated that school while he loved his growing talents ever so much.  
  
He was dressed in his black robes already and had his sandy brown hair neatly combed, split down the middle and curling down to his jawbone. An older sixth year girl sat in his little cubby-hole on the train, in her own black robes and her long blond hair done up into two braids, one on either side of her head. He didn't know her name, but he wanted to.  
  
A boy suddenly shoved a blond head into the door and sneered at Dakota. "An American. And a mudblood. Bad combination." Dakota, whose mother was indeed a muggle, felt the hate swirling up inside of him. He squeezed his wand, safely tucked under his robes, and said nothing, just glared at him. After a while, the boy snorted and was gone. The girl laughed.  
  
"I wouldn't worry about him too much. He's a Malfoy. My name's Katricia Pulsan. What's yours?"  
  
He stared at her. She was actually talking to him? "Dakota. Prince."  
  
She smiled at him. That made her so much more beautiful than she already was. "A transfer student from America, eh?" He nodded. "I hope you get Ravenclaw, she said, and once more fell silent. A few minutes later, he was standing on Hogwart's grounds, staring up at the massive castle. * * * Professor McGonagal swept the first years into the Great Hall, offering the transfer students, a total of three, only a smile. Another professor stood behind them.  
  
"I heard you two like quiditch," he said.  
  
Dakota nodded and saw the other guy, Ranulf Astor, nod as well.  
  
"I'm Wood. Oliver Wood, now Professor Wood."  
  
"You knew Harry Potter!" Dakota exclaimed, and wood nodded.  
  
"Aye, one good Seeker, Harry."  
  
Dakota smiled and peeked into the Great Hall. The last of the first years slid to the Slytherin table amid much applause. "Your turns," Wood said, pushing the three forward.  
  
McGonagal was speaking. "This year, Hogwart's has been blessed by three transfer students. We haveDoraine Mcinelly, Ranulf Astor, and Dakota Prince. Dakota has transferred from America's Salem Institute and is a third year." Applause. "Ranulf has transferred from America's West Wizards' Academy, and is a third year." Applause. "Doraine has transferred from Beauxbatons and is a second year." Applause. Two years ago, Dumbledore had stepped down from Headmaster and McGonagal had become Headmistress.  
  
Doraine was the first to be sorted. She sat on the stool nervously while a sour looking man with long, but neat, black hair lowered the sorting hat onto her head. She went to Hufflepuff. Dakota was next. He sat on the stool and felt a chill go down his spine as the hat was lowered onto his head.  
  
"Ah," the hat said. "We have talent, and . . . in.dec.ision . . ." the hat hissed the word, drawing it out so it echoed in his skull. "Hufflepuff, no, Ravenclaw, no, Slytherin, perhaps . . . GRYFINDOR!!" the hat bellowed, and Dakota thankfully slid the cheering table. A few moments later, Ranulf took the seat next to him.  
  
He saw Katricia. When she saw him looking at her, she snapped her fingers and made an "Oh, too bad," face. Dakota wanted to cry. The girl across the table, another third year, leaned across the table.  
  
"Hi, Dakota. My name's Lainy Grail." And she gave him a wink.  
  
"Now that the Sorting is complete," McGonagal was saying, "let's feast!" And food appeared in heaps before Dakota. Smiling, he dug in. Maybe this year would be one to remember. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
When the Grifyndor quiditch team started practice, it was short two chasers and a beater. Tryouts were held, and Dakota easily made the cut to become a chaser. Ranulf took the other chaser position, and a seventh year became the beater. Their team complete, their captain, the other chaser, began drilling them hard under the watchful eye of Professor Wood, who was the head of Grifyndor house.  
  
Their first game would actually be the second of the season. Ravenclaw played Slytherin, and a week later, Grifnydor played Ravenclaw. Slytherin would then play Hufflepuff a while later, followed by Grifnydor vs. Hufflepuff, and then Ravenclaw would play Hufflepuff. The last match to decide who would win the quiditch house cup would be between Slytherin and Grifyndor.  
  
Dakota found himself hanging out with Ranulf and Scott more than anyone else as their "chaser bond" took effect. Or at least that was what Ranulf called it. He did remarkably well in most of his classes, Divination being a possible exception because Professor Trelawney had this absolute positive feeling that half of the class would be dead by the end of the year. Care of Magical Creatures went beyond scary straight into deadly sometimes, but other than that, Dakota was having a great time at Hogwarts.  
  
Ranulf, Dakota, Scott, and the rest of the Grifnydor quiditch team decked themselves out in their own quiditch robes for the first game of the season. Dakota felt odd wearing his robes but not having his broom, a trusty Nimbus 2002, in hand. He had his heart set on obtaining the new Jupiter 3000, the ultimate chaser's broom.  
  
The game kicked off when Madam Hooch tossed up the quaffle, admonishing Slytherin to play fair. And Slytherin grabbed the quaffle and took off, somehow remaining inside the rules while being absolutely brutal. As their chasers took off, the beaters bashed the keeper with both bludgers, effectively removing him from the game. From there the game went downhill for Ravenclaw, and Scott swore, muttering to himself about their own beaters and chasers. Ravenclaw never got to score even once. They found themselves beaten 240-0. Which basically erased all hope for the quiditch cup from their minds. * * *  
  
The next week flew by, filled with grueling practices. Even though Ravenclaw would be basically pushovers, Scott was panicked, insisting on several late-night practices to keep Grifyndor in the running. Their chasers became a seamless, flawless unit that couldn't seem to be beaten.  
  
The game day started and Ranulf and Dakota made their way to the locker- rooms and changed into their quiditch robes and grabbed their brooms. When the rest of the team had caught up, they made their way out onto the field and zoomed around the stadium. The stands were packed with scarlet wearing fans and Grifyndor banners. Only one was blue. Even Slytherin was supporting Grifyndor in this match.  
  
As they took their positions, Madam Hooch stepped out onto the field and released the bludgers and the snitch. Dakota watched intently as she picked up the quaffle and tossed it up-into Dakota's hands, practically. He zoomed up and over the Ravenclaw's head in front of him and lay down on his broom to gain speed. He looped around the hoops, drawing the keeper to the right, and chucked the quaffle to Ranulf who caught it and put it in almost immediately. The crowed roared.  
  
Ravenclaw, in possession, ran awy down the field, sliding around the crowd stands. Dakota fell onto one's tail, Scott and Ranulf on the others. On a gut instinct Dakota shot forward just as the chaser passed it-to him. Looping downwards, Dakota passed up to Scott, who had hung back, and Scott was gone. He faked out the keeper and scored again.  
  
Ravenclaw, back in possession, formed a tight triangle and the beaters fell in to flank them. The beaters held the bludgers back, but couldn't the chasers as they nudged in shoulder-to-shoulder. The crowd roared as Ranulf wrestled the quaffle away, passed it out to Scott, who took off with Dakota close on his tail, and Scott feignted right, the keeper swallowed the bait, he dumped the quaffle to Dakota, who put it through the hoops again.  
  
The game lasted for several minutes like this, until the score was 140-0. Then the Seekers went whizzing by, a small golden speck in front of them. Kaylie, the Grifnydor Seeker, suddenly slipped. She slid off of the broom and fell the last ten feet to the earth. When she rolled over, she had the snitch.  
  
"SHE'S GOT THE SNITCH! GRIYNDOR RECIEVES 150 POINTS AND WINS, 290-0!!!!" the announcer was screaming.  
  
Dakota couldn't believe it. They were in first place for the quiditch cup, and they had the most new players on their team. The celebration lasted long into the night. Very long. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Defense Against the dark Arts became oddly riveting during the next week. The teacher was Professor Granger. That is, Hermione Granger. She took the class back to the brief rise of Voldemort, when wizards had fallen back on dark magic to fight dark magic. She didn't train them to defend themselves against creatures, no, it was dark wizards they were studying. Dakota loved it.  
  
His performance at the quiditch match seemed to be enough to overcome many peoples prejudices, and he didn't receive either the cold treatment or the sidelong sneers and glares that he once had. He had no complaints.  
  
But on Christmas, he remained at Hogwarts, and soon wished that he hadn't. * * *  
  
It was late one night when Hogwarts was attacked. Filch, the caretaker, was killed when the dark wizards invaded the castle walls, and Madam Hooch, the first to arrive to investigate, went flying fifty feet before smashing into a wall and slumping, not moving.  
  
Dakota heard all of these loud explosions and bangs and roused with the rest of his classmates, and went down to the common room, where several people stood waiting for an explanation. They moved out and down to the Entrance Hall together, in a big mass, where they met the rest of the students. Standing on a walkway about twenty feet higher than the floor, they watched as twenty or so dark wizards fought with about thirteen of the Hogwarts teachers. The air basically hummed with the magic residue.  
  
Trelawney went down under a bright green blast, and Dakota had to wonder- were some of her predictions perhaps true this year? He whipped out his wand as a desperate Hufflepuff launched a solitary Stupefy spell as Professor Sprout crumpled, a string of fire wrapped around her neck. A Slytherin moaned as Snape was spun in a circle, his leg collapsing, not supporting any of his weight.  
  
"Together!!" Dakota yelled, and the students, too scared to refuse, lined up as he told them to. "On three, stupefy," he called, and waited till several had lowered their wands before he lowered his own. "Three, two, one, Stupefy!" Several stupefy spells did what one could not, and several wizards fell. The teachers looked up and McGonagal, distracted, winced as a needle spell hit her arm. Dakota frowned. They had to do something more, and fast.  
  
"Together, again!" he cried, and more students were pulling themselves together even more, more coming into the line. "On three! Three, two, one, Stupefy!" The rest of the dark wizards collapsed, and the students cheered, a little. But the dark wizards had down their damage. Hermione lay slumped against a wall, Snape couldn't even stand, McGonagal was nursing her arm, and Madam Pomfrey was down. McGonagal roused her, and she jumped up, rousing Hermione, healing Snape and McGonagal, and roused Trelawney, but Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout were out. Wood looked up at the students, total surprisement reigning on his face.  
  
"To bed!" shouted McGonagal, but no one was listening, everyone, a cry rising from the Hufflepuffs. After all, Sprout had been the head of their house. Then one of the dark wizards move, rising up, spinning, his wand pointed up at the students. At Dakota. "Avada Kedavra!" the wizard fell, his wand slipping from his numb grasp.  
  
"Snape," McGonagal hissed, "we DO NOT kill!"  
  
"In this world, it's kill or be killed. You should know that, Professor." Snape whirled and was gone in a flash. Hermione was screaming. This was too many memories, too many dark memories for her to bear.  
  
No one moved. No one dared move. * * *  
  
The ministry arrived the next day, and the surviving wizards were carried away to Azkaban. Snape, for the use of the most deadly curse known to man, was expelled from the school. The holidays were black and no one spoke other than the courteous greetings and well-wishings.  
  
Arthur Weasely, the Minister, stayed after everyone had left and talked to both Hermione and McGonagal long into the night. Dakota couldn't help but wonder what he was talking to them about.  
  
The absence of three teachers could not go unnoticed. The staff table looked eerily empty, and when the school resumed, the teachers looked stretched, entirely to overworked to be real. They ran between classes, books flapping, ink spilling quills broken.  
  
The quiditch season was the only thing Dakota, Scott, and Ranulf had to look forward to. They sat with the team one day in an empty Great Hall to discuss the upcoming game.  
  
"Hufflepuff will be a pushover," Scott said, and Dakota couldn't help himself.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, they always are, and they have the exact same team they had last year, when we beat them 200-20." He smiled mischievously. "Besides, we have the best chaser trio Hogwarts has ever seen, two excellent beaters, and a fair Seeker."  
  
Ranulf spoke next. "Slytherin plays them tomorrow, and the week after, we play them. We can watch their best moves."  
  
The seventh year beater, Cooley, asked, "Whose? Slytherin's or Hufflepuff's?"  
  
"Both," Scott said. "It's time we begin practicing to take out Slytherin. I have a feeling they'll be our closest game this year." He looked around. "Their beaters are deadly accurate and efficient. We have to learn how to nullify that advantage."  
  
The door slammed open suddenly, and Hermione came running in, screaming. 


End file.
